


So Far From Your Weapon

by givemesomewings



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: But mostly fluff, Coffee, M/M, Song fic, a little angsty, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:00:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22223707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givemesomewings/pseuds/givemesomewings
Summary: It wasn’t that big a deal. They were two fully grown men. They could talk about having sex without stumbling over their words like two fucking teenagers.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Matt Murdock
Comments: 9
Kudos: 83
Collections: DDE’s 2020 New Year’s Day Exchange





	So Far From Your Weapon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [menel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/menel/gifts).



> This is my second fic for the DaredevilExchange. It was inspired by the song “So Far From Your Weapon” by The Dead Weather and written for the prompt “Coffee”. It was written on short notice, but I hope you enjoy it all the same ❤️

Frank sat back in the ridiculously plush chair, purposely styled to look old and torn apart as if it had been through some shit despite it probably being brand-spanking new and costing an arm and a leg. “Vintage chic”, as Maria had once described to him. 

He guessed the whole cafe was supposed to be vintage chic, with a clientele to match. A bunch of kids dressed like they had let a blind man pick out their clothes. Frank chuckled at the thought, considering his present company. He instantly regretted letting himself laugh even that little bit, as his ribs protested under his clothes.

Red reached over and rested his hand lightly over Frank’s forearm. 

“What is it?” he asked, his face hidden behind a pair of Frank’s sunglasses and the beanie he had thrown on to combat the cold. He’d worn the glasses, despite the endlessly cloudy sky, so that he wouldn’t have to do the whole ‘blind’ act in public. “The ribs bothering you?” 

Frank rolled his eyes and pulled his arm out of Red’s grip. His reply was muffled as he took a sip of the steaming hot mug he was gripping in his other hand.

“M’fine. Besides,” he said before taking a hearty gulp and smacking his lips appreciatively at the taste. This place looked like shit but their coffee was fucking delicious. “If you cared that much, you wouldn’t have spent the entire night crushing them.”

Red smirked as he took a sip of whatever bullshit he’d ordered. A cinnamon latte with a shot of this and that. With his outfit, Frank thought, Red looked like he’d fit right in with any of the other kids in this place. “I’m pretty sure me sleeping next to you is not the cause of any soreness you’re feeling this morning.”

Frank went silent at that. He shouldn’t be clamming up at the mention of what happened last night. He was the one who brought it up, for fuck’s sake. 

It wasn’t that big a deal. They were two fully grown men. They could talk about having sex without stumbling over their words like fucking teenagers.

As a matter of fact, they didn’t really need to talk about it all. Just let what happened be what happened. One night didn’t have to change their whole dynamic. The mission was still their main focus. But if that was the case, inviting Murdock out for coffee probably sent the wrong message. 

Well, Red had actually invited himself. Frank was perfectly happy to let the man sleep while he went out to hunt for a decent cup of coffee. He planned on bringing back breakfast for them both, but Red had jumped out of bed as soon as he’d heard Frank open the door of their motel room. He said he “could use the fresh air” and decided to tag along. He didn’t need Red’s crazy senses to know that wasn’t the only reason he insisted on joining him.

Frank pulled himself out of his thoughts and turned back to Red. He was looking sheepishly into his own mug at the awkward silence that had washed over them. He cleared his throat. 

“Seriously though, sorry. I didn’t realize I was hurting you,” he said. “You could’ve just pushed me off or something.”

“It’s not a big deal, Red,” Frank said, only slightly not believing his own words. “If I minded, that’s what I woulda done.”

Frank shook his head at that poor attempt at damage control. He didn’t want to make Red feel bad because he hadn’t worked through his own shit. It seemed to work, though. At least a little bit.

Matt nodded before taking another sip of his drink. “Probably should wrap them again, though. Those guys got you pretty good last night.”

Frank and Red had been monitoring a drug smuggling ring that had moved into the Kitchen about a month back. They’d both picked up on a lead that could take them right to the center of the operation. Their mark led them to the outskirts of Newfield, a small town even Red, the oh-so-proud native New Yorker, hadn’t heard of.

They had incapacitated everyone in the makeshift headquarters, then bullied the ringleader into packing up his shit and getting out of the city. But during the fight, one of the guys had taken a bat right to Frank’s ribs, damn near snapping the thing in two with just the one hit. Red had helped him back home, bandaged him up good and then... everything else had happened.

Whatever this was had been building between him and Red ever since Frank had chained him to that rooftop. Their paths kept crossing andMurdock refused to leave him the fuck alone. Eventually, focusing less on taking Frank to jail and more on making sure he didn’t get himself killed. But Red would do himself some good to focus some of that energy inward, if you asked Frank.

“They didn’t get me that bad,” Frank lied, purposely. “Just gotta rub a little dirt on it, is all.”

“Oh, please,” Red laughed. “You don’t even believe that, Frank.”

He smiled at Red’s smile, knowing his lie would set his heart skipping and Red would pick up on it instantly. Hopefully, these little bones he was throwing Red would make up for everystupid thing he was gonna do or say to the poor guy. 

One night stands or  _whatever_ this was, were so far out of his realm of experience and he hadn’t realized that until he’d slept with someone for the first time in so many years. He had been operating under the assumption that sex and dating were distant parts of his past, and been doing so comfortably. But he was getting dangerously close to feeling  _alive_ again. And he wasn’t sure where that left him. Or Red.

Red licked his lips, reminding Frank how he’d gotten tangled up in this mess in the first place. He hummed warmly at the taste of his own coffee.

“I don’t know how you drink that shit, Frank. I know you’re supposed to be a tough guy and everything, but this latte is...” He finished his sentence by taking another sip from his mug and moaning at the taste.

Frank laughed. “A ‘tough guy’, huh?” 

“You know,” Red said, gesturing at Frank with his cup. “The black coffee, the all black ensemble, the-“ Red cleared his throat. “The voice,” he said, mimicking Frank’s gravelly tone.

Frank nearly spit out his coffee. “One,” he said after he caught his breath. “How do you know I’m wearing black?”

“It’s not hard to guess, Frank,” Matt laughed right back.

“Well, then I guess you know you’re wearing all black, too?” Frank asked. “What does that make you?”

Red just shrugged. He plucked at the sweater he had stolen out of Frank’s duffle bag. “This is just out of necessity,” he said. “Couldn’t exactly wear the long johns out at this time of day.”

“That reminds me,” Frank said at the mention of Red’s nightlife. “We need to head back soon. I got work to do.”

Matt stopped laughing and perked up at that. “What kind of work?”

Frank just exhaled as he stood up from his chair. He drained the rest of his mug and plucked Red’s cup out of his hand. “Uh uh. You’re not horning in on my marks anymore, Red. This little partnership is over.”

It was supposed to be a joke, at least halfway. Frank couldn’t keep up this no killing shit. But Red had really sobered up after he said it. 

Red sighed and pushed himself out of his own seat. “I guess all good things must come to an end.”

Frank deposited their cups in a bin with all the other used dishes and shuffled toward the entrance of the shop. He held open the door for Murdock, blushing slightly after he realized he’d done it.

Red just snorted and mozied on out the door. “Thanks, Frank,” he said softly.

As they approached Frank’s truck, Red ran ahead of him and pulled open the driver’s side door. He motioned for Frank to take a seat.

Frank shook his head and smiled. “Asshole.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled back at Frank.

Then Red took his seat on the passenger side, resting his head against the window as Frank pulled out of the parking lot. He could see from the look on Red’s face that he had something he wanted to say, but Frank left it alone.

No point in letting Red get all his shit off his chest only for Frank to ruin it all by saying the wrong thing. Or maybe saying nothing would be worse? He wasn’t sure and didn’t know if he should keep trying to figure it out.

This shit was complicated enough when he was back to back with Red, an AK-47 in his hand and a room full of scumbags he wasn’t allowed to kill. But now, he was back to back with Red in a different kind of way holding onto a different kind of weapon. 

For all of the time Red spent putting on a ‘tough guy’ act of his own, Frank knew he was just a big baby. And holding Red’s heart in his hands was a burden he didn’t want to carry. And even if he wanted to, he didn’t know Goddamn how. Not anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, i hope i did these characters justice and that you liked it menel! this is more inspired by your prompt and my take on the lyrics of sffyw than the mood of the song but i did my best to draw from it for the fic ❤️
> 
> hmu at @maniskordaze on twitter and tumblr!


End file.
